


School Dance 1957

by omega_owl



Series: Outsiders Alternate AU [2]
Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s), School Dance, Some Fluff, fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-31 12:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19426141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omega_owl/pseuds/omega_owl
Summary: It's two teens against the world in this story of love prevailing amid adversity.Ponyboy has yet to find another person in Tulsa who seems to get him as much as Cherry Valance does. Though they haven't spoken much since the rumble, when she abandoned social ties to spy for the greasers, he can't seem to stop thinking about her... and she, of him. But that might all change when the posters go up, promoting the high school's dance on one Friday night...So begins School Dance 1957, the finale of this Outsiders alternate ending...





	1. Ponyboy

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read independently of Second Chances. It's six or seven months since the trial, Johnny survived the fire and is going steady with a girl named Rita.
> 
> (Personally, I think this fic is better than Second Chances, idk it's just not as heavy/angsty and the romance is light and cute. Anyway, enjoy School Dance 1957!)

The walk from science to English was the best walk of the day, because I got to see Cherry.

It was the same every day - you get shoved down the river of people in the school hallway, then turn at the stairs, go down, and there she is. Every day.

Today she wore a blue dress, the kind of blue that could be green in the right lighting. It looked real pretty with her eyes. She had her hair tied back in a matching ribbon, and I wondered if she had to use a lot of hairspray to get her hair to curl at the ends like that…

I was so preoccupied that I almost forgot to look her in the eye. I really don’t use my head. I always try to meet her eye when I pass her, in case she looks at me. She’s always talking to some girl-friends and sometimes she’s too preoccupied to look, which is a bummer but I deal. If it’s a good day, she’ll catch my eye for a couple seconds, and if I’m real lucky I’ll get a quick smile. Those days, I go through the rest of school dreamy and sort of distracted, which isn’t too hot with my history teacher.

Today wasn’t a good day. I saw her spot me the moment I stepped off the stairs, but she tactfully kept her gaze on Marcia the whole way down the hall. I even tried to walk a little slower, but she wasn’t having it.

And then she was gone. Passed. No acknowledgement. Damn.

I chewed my lip in frustration. I didn’t think she’d looked the last couple days, either. Was it me? I ran a hand through my long hair, grease slicking between my fingers. I hoped not. I thought it looked especially tuff this morning.

I got shouldered by a couple of bigger guys suddenly, and I realized I was almost stopped in the middle of the hall. I tightened my hold on my school books, dodged another cluster of people, and slunk off, feeling lousy.

~

We were supposed to be working on our themes in English, but I found it hard to write anything good. I almost tore a hole in my paper from erasing so much.

I got called out for drawing in the margin of my notebook in my next class. My history teacher snatched it out from under me so fast I jumped, which didn’t make me feel too hot. Usually I hide my sketching a lot better. And it’s kind of annoying to be an East Side kid busted for drawing horses in school, you know?

I was glad no one I knew was in that class.

~

“Curtis!”

I turned. “Hey, Curly,” I said, stopping to let him catch up. We were both headed home to the East Side, anyway.

Tim Shepherd’s brother, fresh out of the reformatory, slugged me in the shoulder kinda hard. I liked Curly. He didn’t look much like Tim at all, except for his alley-cat eyes and knack for starting fights. His hair grew in long, stringy whorls that he grease back over his head and almost down his neck. He played too rough, talked too loud, and rubbed everyone the wrong way. He was an okay kid, for our neighborhood.

“I heard ol’ Geofferson called you out in eighth period today,” Curly drawled. “What, were you try’na light up or something?”

“Yeah,” I lied. “Didn’t even get a good smoke in.”

“That sucks, man,” he said, flicking upen his own pack of cigarettes. I took one without asking. That’s how you gotta deal with Curly. “Hey,” he asked suddenly, “You heard about the school dance this Friday?”

I blinked. “No, what dance?”

Curly swatted me over the back of the head. “The dance that there’ve been posters for all over school, moron,” he declared.

“Oh,” I said, brushing my hair back into alignment. I don’t pay attention in the halls much. I keep my head down. Except between science and English, of course. “You goin’?”

“Hell, no,” he scoffed, lighting up. He took a long drag and said, “I’ll be at the Slash J or somethin’. More action there, plus you can pick up more girls.”

Curly’s only fifteen and he’s already kissed three girls on three separate occasions.

“Why’d you ask me about it if you ain’t even going?” I asked, elbowing him in the arm.

“Well, I thought you’d at least heard of it so we could have a laugh at how dumb it is.” He blew smoke in my face. “But no, this kid here’s even more out of it than I am.”

We talked all through town, smoking, hitting each other sometimes, slouching and glaring down any cars that passed by. Curly was totally relaxed, but I found it sort of exhausting. He was part of his brother’s outfit, and if you thought the rest of  _ my  _ gang wouldn’t dig movies or drawings, Curly was twice as bad. You get marked soft for things like that around him and his boys. So I had to play it up, slouch a little more than usual, let my vocabulary slide to prove I could act like a hood if I wanted. I’m pretty good at faking it, but it wears you down.

Curly left for his turf after a while and I left for mine. I felt sort of relieved, but not too much because I do like him even though he’s a hood.

~

I pass by the vacant lot on the way home from school. Today, Johnny was there, sitting on the pile of cinder blocks with his hands in the pockets of his jeans jacket, staring off down the road. I said hello and figured I could spend a couple minutes. Any longer and Darry would start worrying.

“Whatcha doing?” I asked.

He flicked his black eyes my way with a little smile before resuming his vigil. “Waitin’ on Rita,” he said in his quiet voice.

I raised an eyebrow. “You got a date?” He smiled again, stared at his shoes, and went a little pink. I grinned. “Where at?”

“The Dingo. We’re going to get a couple Cokes and chat with whoever’s there. Well… she’ll probably do all the chatting.”

“Sounds like Rita,” I said, sitting down on a cinder block. Rita sure was fiery, opinionated, and talkative. She dug being surrounded by people.

I wondered if she’d go to the dance on Friday.

The thought struck me, and I looked at Johnny. She would probably enjoy it there. I’d been to a couple dances, and I thought they were neat. Everyone dresses up real nice and the school gym is all decorated in cellophane and crepe paper, and there are usually some swinging songs. The food is usually pretty good, until some Soc thinks he’s tuff and decides to spike the punch. Then the teachers take it all away, so you need to get in early if you want to eat anything.

Dances were usually neutral territory. The Socs stay up front by the band, and us greasers hang out in the back by the bleachers. There aren’t any fights inside because of all the teachers around, but in the parking lot and by the dumpsters, guys’ll jump each other. Most of the time, over a girl.

Johnny would probably have fun. He could sit in the back and watch everyone, and if Rita wanted to dance, I don’t think he’d complain.

“There’s a dance on Friday,” I said. “Are you and Rita thinkin’ of going?”

“Yeah,” he said, stretching. “Though I got nothing to wear.”

“Shoot, you could just throw on a nice pair of jeans and find a shirt with a collar. Soda might have one you can borrow.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t want to bother him to ask.”

“Soda’ll be delighted to help,” I insisted. “You know he loves you two. He might even iron it himself.”

Johnny had to laugh. Soda never picked up an iron in his life. “That would be the day,” he said quietly. He suddenly spied something down the road, and his entire face lit up. I followed his gaze.

Right on cue, there was Rita. Only she could make Johnny smile like that. I patted his shoulder as we both stood up. “Have fun,” I said. He gave me a genuine grin before heading over.

I watched her hold out her hand to my friend, who took it. They walked off together.

I wondered if Cherry and Bob were like that.

Suddenly, I felt lousy again. I kicked an old can and started for my own house. I wanted to stop thinking about Cherry and Bob but I couldn’t. I bet they held hands like Rita and Johnny. I bet he took her to parties in his car. They probably danced together during slow songs, he probably  _ kissed _ her, like Soda kissed Sandy before she ran off to Florida.

I tried to hate Bob, then. I tried to hate him like I did before he jumped us at the water fountain, but I couldn’t because Cherry said he was a real nice guy and Randy said he was just trying to get someone to tell him ‘no’ and I believe them both. Bob drank too much and jumped people, but Cherry said his other side was sweet. Cherry was a smart girl. She wouldn’t go steady with a guy unless she saw something in him. Something good.

I think that in her heart, she’d always love Bob a little bit.

~

I could hear the radio blaring from down the street. I could hear Sodapop singing by the time I stepped into the yard.

“I’M HOME,” I hollered, dropping my backpack by the door. Soda was dancing in the living room in front of the radio. He’s good at dancing, and he likes it, too. He pointed at me and started singing at me as the chorus came around.

“Was that Pony?” I heard Darry holler from the kitchen. “Hey, Pepsi-Cola, turn it down a bit!”

Soda rolled his eyes good-naturedly and did so.

“I thought you was supposed to be working, not bumming around the house,” I teased.

“I’ve been taking extra hours all this week, manager said I could get off early today,” Soda grinned.

“Practicing for your radio debut?”

“Oh, you know it, kiddo.” A new song came on, and my brother instantly got into it, proving his point.

I went into the kitchen and started rooting through the icebox for the chocolate cake Darry made that morning. After my lousy day, I was ready for sugar.

“Up here, little buddy.” Darry tapped the counter, where the cake was already sitting.

I shut the icebox door, feeling sheepish. Darry smiled - he  _ smiled _ . He never used to smile. I liked him better when he was. It made his eyes less cold.

“How was that math test?” he asked.

I hesitated. Math was my last class of the day, and by that point I had been ready to get home. I doubted I’d done very hot. “Okay, I guess,” I lied.

Darry wasn’t smiling anymore. “You guess? How did you do on it?”

“I studied, didn’t I?” I said. “I did fine, Darry.”

My oldest brother clenched his jaw. A couple months earlier, he would have started hollering, but he’s gotten better at that. He just locked eyes until I had to look away. Darry’s stare is kinda hard.

“Okay,” he said, and moved on.

Soda had been watching but trying to make it like he wasn’t. He poked his head in, grinning crazily. “C’mon, Pony, dance with me,” he said.

“He’s got homework,” said Darry from the other room.

“No, I don’t,” I said, “I just gotta read some more of my book, and I can do that tonight.”

“Ten minutes!” Soda begged.

I heard him sigh. “Alright.”

Soda whooped and grabbed my wrist, yanking me into the living room. A new song was on. My brother started moving me around, smiling wider and wider, so happy I had to smile, too. “That’s it,” he said, trying to spin me around. “Look at you, you’re a natural.”

I most certainly was not. I suddenly remembered Johnny. “Hey, Soda,” I said in between spins, “Johnny an’ Rita are going to a school dance this Friday, and he needs a nice shirt.”

“There’s a dance?” My brother stopped and pressed his hands together, beaming. “Shoot, if there’s one thing I miss about school, it’s dances. I remember this one time, Sandy…” his smile faltered, but he picked it back up like he’d never said anything about his old girl. “Johnny can borrow one of mine, if he wants.”

“I told him that. He said he’d think about it.”

“Good deal.” He suddenly gave me an impish grin. “What about you? You goin’?”

I shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Ah, c’mon, there’s no girl in the high school you’d wanna go with?”

_ Cherry _ . I’d go with Cherry, I realized right then. I could see us together, dancing to the slow songs… I forgot I was even dancing with my brother until he shook my shoulder gently. I don’t use my head.

“What’s goin’ on in that brain of yours, huh, Ponyboy?” he grinned. “Who’s in your head right now?”

Soda eats this love stuff up.

“No one,” I insisted,

He studied me some more, humming, “mm-hm”.

“No one I can be caught dead goin’ with, anyway,” I admitted, muttering.

“Oh. Really?” Soda looked genuinely let down. “What’s the deal? She have a boyfriend already?... Is she a  _ Soc? _ ”

My whole body stiffened. Soda’s brown eyes went huge. “Is it… it’s not…  _ Cherry Valance? _ ”

“Well, don’t holler it to the whole world,” I said, ears reddening. Sodapop knew me too well. He knew she and I were friends. Why’d he have to know everyone so well?

“I can’t believe it,” he grinned. “You’re sweet on Cherry Valance! She’s a looker, that one, and real smart, too.”

“I know.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. My whole face was warm. That lousy blush bugged me. You couldn’t hide anything when it was plastered on my face.

My brother cocked his head to one side like a curious puppy. “Are you thinking you can’t take her to the dance ‘cause she’s a Soc?”

“Well, yeah,” I said.

“You know what I think?” he said. “I think you should go for it. Take her.”

“What?” I exclaimed, heart jumping in my chest. “Soda, you’re nuts. Outta your mind. I can’t take her!”

“Why not? It’s just one night. A couple hours. I don’t mean you gotta go steady, just have fun.”

“Soda, I told you, I can’t, she’s a Soc. I don’t know what it could do to her reputation.”

“Anyone who cares about reputation that much is gonna be at some Soc party on the river bottom or gettin’ buzzed on a Friday night.” He put a hand under my chin and made me look him in the eye. “Just think about it, won’t you, Pony?”

I twisted my mouth in acquiescence (that was one of our vocab words this unit in English. Acquiescence. I liked that word. It sounded fancy). It was hard to say no to Sodapop, especially when he smiled at you. He could cheer anyone up. “Okay,” I said, “So long as you’re not gonna tell anyone about it.”

“No, no, glory no, I ain’t tellin’ if you don’t want me to.” He ruffled my hair. 

I beamed. Gosh, did I love my brother.


	2. Johnny

Dally was at the Dingo once we got there. He scowled at us, but I was real sure he was mostly scowling at me. He still hadn’t gotten over me goin’ and asking Rita out. He still didn’t like her very much.

“You brought the broad?” he grumbled.

“Nice to see you, too, Dally,” Rita retorted smoothly.

“We were just gonna get a couple Cokes,” I said, shoving my hands in my pockets. “What’s the scene?”

Dallas Winston sighed and pulled out a smoke, then jabbed his thumb at the cars and people behind him. “Two-Bit showed up with a new blonde, man. Tim an’ his outfit are lurking around somewhere, too.”

“Where are you gonna be?” I asked.

“Around,” was all the answer I got from him. It wasn’t very helpful. I looked at Rita for a decision.

She shrugged her shoulders. “We’ll probably stick with Two-Bit, then,” she said.

That got Dally’s attention. “Then I’m stickin’ with you. Someone’s gotta be ready to beat him up if that son-of-a-bitch gets too mouthy about you two, man.”

I gave my girlfriend a small smile.

~

I got our Cokes inside and went back out to the cars in the lot out front. Two-Bit and a girl I didn’t recognize were sitting on the hood of his car. Dally was sort of behind him, dragging on his cigarette and cooly guarding the scene.

Rita was leaning against one of the headlights.

I felt like kissing her cheek. I really dug the way she did her hair in a little tied head-scarf today. Instead, I gave her her Coke.

“There he is!” said Two-Bit. I tensed up. I didn’t like being the center of attention and I’d hoped he’d lay off me. “How’s it goin’, Johnnycake?”

“Jus’ fine,” I mumbled.

The stocky greaser introduced his blonde girl and I forgot her name instantly. I just muttered “Hello” and inched a little closer to Rita.

She reached back and slipped her fingers into my hand. I jumped a little, but interlaced them.

Two-Bit and the rest of the people around us started talking about nothing I could follow - other girls, other guys who had it out for each other, other guys who souped up a new ride, other guys who were going steady with other girls. I just stood off to the side and listened while Rita chimed in, which was fine by me. I also rubbed my thumb across the back of Rita’s hand.

“Hey,” Dally growled suddenly. “Cut that out, man.” He jabbed the butt of his cigarette at me.

“What?” I squeaked, letting go of her. My palm was sweaty.

“Any of that,” he said.

“Any of what?” asked Two-Bit, leaning in.

“This kid’s try’na get cute,” Dally declared.

“No, I wasn’t,” I murmured indignantly.

“ _ Oh, yes you were _ .”

I didn’t like the suggestive look Two-Bit was giving us. I slouched and tried to make myself as small as possible. That’s when Rita turned right around and said right to Dally’s face, “You’re just jealous because Sylvia sweet-talks other boys and makes you look like dirt, Dallas Winston.”

My eyes went huge. She messed with Dally all the time, and he always just took it ‘cause he knows I like her and that makes her immune to any kind of retaliation. But this wasn’t like those other times.

He was gonna  _ kill _ her for that.

Two-Bit’s mouth had dropped open.

Rita stood firm. Even had the audacity to take a sip of her drink.

Dally, to my shock, just scoffed. “Don’t get mouthy, O’Malley. I’m not interested in hittin’ a girl right now.”

That was a lie. I knew Dally. He wouldn’t hesitate from belting  _ anyone _ if they hacked him off, even if they were a girl. But… he wouldn’t fight Rita, and she tested him all the time. She really  _ was  _ immune.

“Hot  _ damn _ , baby!” Two-Bit was having a grand ol’ time. “I told you I liked this girl.”

“Would’ja mind layin’ off, now?” I suggested.

“Sure thing, kid, I don’t wanna be on the receiving end of  _ that  _ pistol.” He mussed my hair and turned back to his girl. Dally’s scowl had eased a bit since he thought I wasn’t looking, but he still made it real clear that any more cute stuff would not be welcomed.

I kept my hands in my pockets the rest of the time we were there, even though I didn’t particularly want to.

~

He and Rita stayed out all day. We spent most of it in the lot. Rita told stories about school and various bits of drama her girl-friends were into. I mostly listened and watched her mouth and hands move.

When the shadows lengthened, we were sitting against the cinderblocks in the dirt, touching shoulder to hip to knee. Our hands were tangled in our lap, and I was marveling over the dark, tanned skin over and between her knuckles. My thumb swept slowly over it. 

“Rita,” I said, “Let’s get married.”

Her eyelashes lifted to look me in the eye. A pretty smile grew on her lips. “Get  _ married? _ ” she asked. “When?”

“Right now.”

Now she laughed. “Right now? Johnny, that’s not how it works.”

“Sure it is. I like you, and you think I’m alright. Why not?”

“First off, we’re still in school.” She got on a superior look. “We gotta graduate, first.”

I frowned and said, “But what if I flunk out?”

“Oh, you’re not flunking out if I have anything to say about it, Johnny Cade.” She was right, too. Because of her, I was maintaining a C average, B in English. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d gotten a B in anything, let alone English. I even kind of started to dig  _ The Great Gatsby _ . There were a lot of tuff ol’ gentlemen in that book, anyway. They reminded me of  _ Gone With The Wind _ .

“Am I a gentleman?” I asked.

And suddenly, she kissed my neck, and I went hot and cold all over. “Course you are,” she said. 

I watched her mouth form the words.

I wanted to put my mouth on hers.

So I leaned over, and I did.


	3. Ponyboy

I was bouncing on my heels Wednesday afternoon after school, scanning the crowd for a head of red hair. I was so nervous I thought I would burst. I needed a smoke, but I wouldn’t bring any to school ‘cause it wasn’t allowed and I didn’t feel like getting busted.

A couple guys shoved me around, saying “Move, grease,” and you could imagine how hot that made me feel. I hadn’t seen Cherry in the halls that day and I didn’t even know if she was at school, but I refused to go home. I’d chickened out yesterday.

The crowds were thinning, and still no sign of Cherry. I really needed a smoke. I had a pack at home. I should just go and come back tomorrow -

Cherry walked out the doors and down the steps.

My heart leaped right into my throat. She didn’t have any girl-friends around her, and all the Socs around had already beat it to their cars. She looked up and saw me standing on the curb.

I panicked and blurted, “Cherrywannagotothedance?”

And my world froze.

She had stopped in front of me and her green eyes were big. Her mouth was open. Her lipstick was sort of pinkish red. I wondered how I’d ever managed to hold a decent conversation with her before. I couldn’t even find the words to apologize for hollering. My ears burned.

Her eyebrows creased down the middle and she shook her head a little, blinking. “Sorry, I… what?”

I swallowed. “It was nothing. Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later, bye.”

“Wait, Pony.” She caught me before I could escape. I watched her glance to the side to see who was around, but then she gave me a smile, tipping her head. “I… haven’t been able to talk to you for a while. How are you doing?”

I shrugged, jamming my hands in my pockets. “O-okay, I guess.”

“How’s Darry and Soda?” 

Suddenly, I was rambling. Do I ever use my head? “They’re good. Darry’s started goin’ easier on me since the trial. Me and him are okay now. Soda’s still happy as ever. He got a half day off work the other day ‘cause he picked up extra hours, so he came home the same time I came home from school. He kinda misses goin’ to school himself sometimes, but only ‘cause of the dances.”  _ Then  _ I clammed right up again.

“Oh, yeah, there’s that dance on Friday, right?”

I nodded and said, “Uh, y’know, what I was saying before, when you…” I skipped ahead. “I, uh, was just wondering if maybeyouhadadateyet?”

I watched realization dawn in her green eyes.”

“CausethenmaybeIthoughtyoumightgowithmeor… something.”

Her smile went sort of sad and I instantly knew what she was about to say. “Oh, Ponyboy…”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” I mumbled, fixing to scram. “You didn’t have to. I was just wondering. Nevermind.”

“No, no, just… just hold on,” she said. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m… well, I’m a little honored you’d ask.”

_ She  _ was honored that  _ I  _ asked? I scuffed my sneaker on the sidewalk.

“But I’m not sure if it’s such a good idea.”

Rats. “It’s cause you’re from the West Side and I ain’t.”

She looked sympathetic.

“I get it,” I mumbled.

“You understand, don’t you?” she pleaded. “Please don’t take it personal. I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt or jumped or anything for taking me.”

My head snapped up.

“It’s just there are a lot of awful people around who would take things the wrong way and go after you.”

“You mean you’re worried for  _ me? _ ” I asked.

“Well, sure.”

My heart fluttered a little. “Shoot, Cherry, I can handle myself. The Socs don’t scare me none. I was worried about you and your reputation!”

“Gosh, I don’t care about any of that,” she said. “I never really did, and ever since the trial… since everything… I really haven’t thought twice about myself being a Soc. We talked about that junk, didn’t we?”

“Sure we did -”

“Don’t you know that I don’t really care about reputations?”

“Well, don’t you know I can handle myself?”

We just sort of stared at each other. Of course I knew she was different from other Socy girls I knew. She wasn’t unfeeling and mindless like the Socs, but she wasn’t loud and tough like the greasers, same way  _ I  _ didn’t quite fit either mold. Wasn’t that why I found her so great?

“You sayin’,” I ventured, “That reputations and fighting and demographics aside… you kind of want to go with me?”

Slowly, faintly… she nodded. “You’re one of the realest people I know anymore, Pony.”

“So if… if you think you can handle it… in school, you know… will you let me take you?”

She smiled. Gosh, she was cute when she smiled. “If you think  _ you  _ can handle it… sure. You’ve got yourself a date.”

~

“DARRY, SODA, I’M GOIN’ TO THE DANCE!” I hollered when I got home.

“Make sure your homework’s done before you do,” Darry said without looking up from his newspaper. Soda popped out from our room and quickly ushered me in, grinning wildly.

“Did you do it?” he whispered excitedly, shutting the door and dropping me on the bed. I nodded, smiling wide. He nudged my shoulder. “ _ Well? _ ”

“She said yes!”

“She did not!”

“Yeah she did! She sure scared me for a bit, though,” I said. “And dig this - she was worried it would cause  _ me  _ problems, like worried I’d get jumped or something if people saw me with her.”

“And what’dja say?”

“I said I could handle a couple Socs.”

“That’s my brother!” Soda gave me a big hug and near suffocated me. “I’m so proud of you, Pony. Look at you, you and Johnny both. We gotta iron out some nice shirts for y’all!”

I remembered what I’d said to Johnny about Sodapop ironing and laughed.

This was going to be a good time.


	4. Johnny

Friday night I struggled through my homework in the confines of my tiny room because it was too windy outside to do it in the lot. Soda had given me a dark blue collared shirt earlier and I’d worn it all day so I didn’t crumple his careful work at ironing it. He really ironed it himself and he didn’t do a half-lousy job. 

Someone knocked on the front door.

I froze.

_ Rita _ .

And my father was home.

I threw down my pencil and burst out of my room. I had to open the door first. Before he did.

But I heard the hinges squeal just as I rounded the corner. I stood like a mute.

“H-hello, Mr. Cade,” I heard Rita say.

My father grunted. “Who’re you?”

“My name’s Rita… sir. I’m Johnny’s friend.” She peered over his shoulder and saw me there. Her pretty brown eyes went real big.

He followed her look and saw me. He thrust a finger my way. “Git over here,” he said. He never hollered at me. But I knew what was coming. I obeyed.

I recognized the anger in his eyes. He jabbed his thumb at the girl in the doorway. “Who is she, ‘s she your girlfriend?” he threatened.

“No, sir.”

My head cracked against the wall as he grabbed me by my collar. I clenched my teeth so that Rita wouldn’t see how much that hurt. Her hand still covered her mouth.

I wished he’d lay off.

But now he was hollering in my face. “You’re lying, you little bastard, don’t you  _ lie _ .”

“She ain’t my girlfriend,” I said.

“ _ Don’t lie to your father _ .” His fist crumpled my shirtfront. “You tellin’ me fifteen years and you ain’t learned from your mother’s mistakes? You still wanna go out and sleep around?”

“No, sir.”

He yanked me off the wall and I really thought he was gonna belt me until he threw me out the door, right into Rita. She caught me and kept her hands on my shoulder as my father cussed me out one last time, real good. The door slammed hard enough to rattle the empty window boxes.

I didn’t really respond as Rita ran her hands across my chest, smoothing and straightening my now-wrinkled shirt. She didn’t say a word and I was sort of glad.

Her hands were trembling.

She rubbed my shoulder and turned me away. “What does he know?” she whispered to me. “He doesn’t know me, or you. He didn’t bother to try.”

“Rita, it’s fine.”

“Johnny -”

“Just -” I met her eyes. She looked scared. I didn’t like that expression on her face.  _ I  _ could be scared. She should never be scared like that, not ever. Nothing scared her. “Just… lay off, okay? Please?”

Rita seemed to understand. She knew boundaries… and this, my family, wasn’t a barrier she could ever resolve. Maybe that was why she was so upset. She was used to having all the answers. But this… wasn’t something she could fix with a couple quick facts or clever words. She and I would never be able to fix this. 

I didn’t want to put the effort into doing so, anyway.

She looped her arm though mine as we walked away. I hadn’t noticed her dress before. Lavender was a good color on her. It looked nice with her darker skin and straight brown hair.

“What you said before,” she murmured, “... in the lot the other day.” She held me closer. “You really  _ would _ marry me right now, wouldn’t you.”

I said nothing.

“To get away from them.”

I found her hand and held it tight.

We didn’t say anything more the whole way to the school. I tried to forget about it. I didn’t need him, I reminded myself. He wasn’t someone who deserved my respect, not like Dally or Pony or even Rita. He didn’t care about me enough to ask about me when I was in Windrixville, and I didn’t need to keep waiting around for him or my mother to come around. They never would. They  _ never _ would.

His words were still in my ears and I still couldn’t help feeling like dirt, though.


	5. Ponyboy

I had my own collared shirt that I wore to anything fancy. It used to be light blue, but it was faded and sort of grayish now. I’d spent at least fifteen minutes in the bathroom trying to get my hair to cooperate with the least amount of grease possible until Soda hollered that he’d drive away without me if I didn’t hurry up. I  _ was  _ taking a Soc to the dance. I didn’t want to look too much like a hood.

I still didn’t know how I managed to pull that off, to be honest.

Sodapop drove like a nut, as usual. When he dropped me off at the parking lot, he asked if he could sneak in with me and get his kicks, but he forgot about it real fast when I told him Mrs. Raleigh was chaperoning. I wouldn’t be surprised if his old math teacher was one of the reasons he dropped out in the first place.

Once my brother sped off, I loped through the parking lot kinda fast. I told you people get jumped in the parking lots. The guys that don’t give a hang about the dance bum around and try to pick off whoever they can. Plus there was already some stuff going on in some of the parked cars and I didn’t want an eyeful of that.

Luckily, no one cut me off and I made it past safe. I brushed down my shirt - I really shoulda picked a neater one, maybe even bought one - and saw two people leaning against the outside wall by the gym doors. It was Johnny and Rita!

“Hey,” I called, coming over and smiling.

Rita broke away, and suddenly I realized how close together they’d just been. Johnny’s face was pretty red and he let go of the girl’s hands. “Hi, Pony,” Rita said, sort of awkwardly.

I felt my ears start to hear up. “Sorry, sorry,” I muttered, kicking the dirt under my shoe. I really never use my head. “I’ll just… I’ll go in, I guess.”

“No, wait, man, don’t leave,” Johnny piped up from the shadow, but I was already shuffling off.

“Nah, it’s okay. See you inside.” I went into the brightly lit gymnasium, still embarrassed. I really walked right into that one.

There were a lot of people milling around inside, girls in dresses with big skirts and guys wearing sharp-looking suits and bowties. I’d wanted to wear one of Darry’s ties to clean up my outfit, but they were all too big to look any good on me. There was a live band on the stage playing a song I didn’t know, but the singer’s voice was good so I guess it was alright.

I started looking around for Cherry. I hoped she wasn’t in one of the big clusters of girls that were here and there on the sides. Their loud talking and lipstick and fancy hair were intimidating. Not intimidating like a Soc or a tough-looking hood, but a different sort. You know what I mean.

I was about to head over to the snack table until someone said, “Ponyboy!” behind me. I turned and gave her a smile.

“Hey, Cherry.”

_ Man _ did she look sharp. Her lipstick was red as the other girls’, but I thought it fit her better somehow. Maybe it was her red hair, with the front sections tied behind her head with a tiny bow. Her dress was a pale, buttery yellow with a flat white collar and a pink stripe around the skirt, near the bottom hem.

“You look nice,” I said sorta fast. “Real classy.”

“Thanks,” she smiled. “You look good, too.”

Yeah right. I felt underdressed in my worn shirt, dark jeans, and black sneakers. I looked lousy and she knew it. She was just being nice. I kind of admired it, though. Not every girl would look past appearances like Cherry did, not without a dirty glance or a lousy remark. No, Cherry said I looked good and she meant it, even if it wasn’t really true.

“So, do you want to dance, or… I don’t know, get some food?” she suggested. I gulped. I wasn’t all that prepared to dance right off the bat.

“Food sounds great,” I said.

We got our snacks and ate them on the bleachers, then started talking. Once we got into it, it was easy to think up things to say. Talking with Cherry was as easy as talking with one of the guys, even though she was a Soc and also a girl. She told me about her older brother who goes to college and her father who designs houses and buildings. “He reminds me of you,” she said. “He’s always got a new idea and has notebooks full of drawings of buildings lying around his office.”

I found myself telling her about some pictures I’d drawn, mostly people - Dally scowling at Rita like he usually did, Johnny sitting on the cinder-blocks in the lot, Curly Shepherd walking away.

“Have you ever drawn girls, or do you mostly stick to your friends?” Cherry asked.

“I’ve drawn Rita a couple times,” I said, “and Sodapop’s girl Sandy, before she left. And… you. Once.”

“Really?” She looked right into my eyes. It was funny. She had this way of listening that made you think drawing was the tuffest thing since drag racing. She was sure different.

“Yeah.” I ran my hand through my hair. “It was that day before the big rumble, when you came to talk to us in your Corvette. I tried…” I started laughing in spite of myself - “I tried drawing you leaning against it, but if it’s one thing I can’t draw to save my life, it’s cars, so it’s just a real nice picture of you with your hair up in your ski jacket, half leaning on a red, shapeless blob.”

She laughed, and I had to, too. I remembered how nervous I’d been to ask her to this dance, and grinned again. This wasn’t so bad.

Suddenly, she jumped up and held out her hands to me. “Let’s dance,” she said. I jumped right up next to her and I took it. The music was swinging, and I realized that I wasn’t nervous at all. I was just having fun.

We stuck in the middle of the room, where the West Side half blurred with the East Side. The band was playing Buddy Holly and Elvis, so it wasn’t slow and corny at all. Me and Cherry took each other by the hand and let the music move us however it wanted. I spun her a couple times. She really wasn’t all that taller than me, now that we were side by side on equal footing.

A few songs in and we were panting and sweaty, but grinning like bobcats. That was when the gym lights sort of dimmed and the band started playing a slow song.

My eyes shot to Cherry’s. She raised her eyebrows in question,  _ do you want to? _ I decided. I brought my arms around her waist, moving a little closer, and looked at her face again. She laced her fingers down and behind my neck, and we danced like that.

I was dancing. With a girl. With  _ Cherry _ .

I didn’t know where to put my gaze, so I kept it on her green eyes. She did the same. It got kinda awkward and I couldn’t stop smiling, but it was a warm kind of awkward and I didn’t want to look away. We swayed side to side and rotated slowly.

I watched her eyes the whole time. I watched them when, a minute or two in, they caught sight of something over my shoulder and went wide with a sudden shock of fear. Instantly, I turned around, stepping in front of her of my own accord.

Two guys were pushing through the crowd, heading right for us. Socs, with dress pants and silk bowties and shiny, black shoes. One of them looked scarily familiar, but I couldn’t place him…

“What do you think you’re doin’, pal?” growled the taller one, and I knew. Walking home from the movies, blue madras, that same cold voice crooning, “Need a haircut, greaser?”

Now I was scared, but I glared him down like I wasn’t, for Cherry’s sake. She hadn’t wanted me to get into a fight. She was so worried about me getting in trouble because of her. I hoped they weren’t going to come to blows, but… I’d take them both if I had to.

Cherry spoke next, tension tight in her voice. “Leave him alone,” she demanded. “He’s just my date, Tom, nothing fancy.”

“Nothing fancy?” Tom was real upset. “You take a greaser to the dance and it’s nothing fancy?”

“He asked  _ me _ .” She was glaring as mean as Dally ever did. I figured then that defending me like she was was her own version of me stepping in front of her just now, trying to protect her. “This is Ponyboy Curtis. He happens to be my friend.”

“Same friend you sold out to before that rumble?”

“You really  _ did _ change since Bob died,” the other guy sneered, curling his lip like she was something nasty on the bottom of his shoe. I’d  _ never  _ seen that look directed at another Soc before. It had always been reserved for us greasers.

If it bugged Cherry, she didn’t show it. Her shoulders just got more tense. “Don’t you have Laurie and Sarah to get back to?” she frowned. “I don’t see what your deal is if  _ I  _ want to have a nice time at a school event with a friend.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Right, ‘cause one day he’s your friend, next he’s your  _ boyfriend _ -”

“I  _ never _ said -”

“God  _ damn  _ it, Cherry,” he exclaimed in fury, “Why don’t you just stay on your  _ own goddamn side of the tracks anymore? _ ”

She froze. I don’t know what made me angrier right then, the Socs or the wounded glare on her face. I ground my teeth and spat, “Why would she, with Socy bums like you slinking around?”

Tom’s eyes went round with outrage and he started cussing me out. Cherry started hollering back. There was a struggle and next thing I knew, the Soc’s fist came flying and socked me square in the face.

I reeled back, and in trying not to crash into anyone I tripped over some girl’s shoe and fell flat on my back. My eyes were watering and my nose was bleeding and if you don’t think that hurt like all git-out you’re nuts. I’m pretty sure Cherry screamed.

Someone grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. I swiped the blood off my face, ready to hit back, until I realized it was the redhead who had helped me up, not the Soc. She yanked me away through the crows. Tom and his buddy were still throwing lousy names our way.

I held my bleeding nose and tried to get a look at Cherry’s face as we rushed out of the gym and into the dark lot, but her hair was in the way. Her breathing was kinda ragged, though. She pulled me along the chrome-plated maze and didn’t stop until she reached her red Sting Ray and ushered me in.

It was only when she slammed her own door, gunned the engine, and sped out of the high school lot did I realize she had tears running down her face.

~

I was a little dazed from how fast everything had happened, and Cherry was accelerating too fast at stoplights for me to feel comfortable breaching a conversation. She was still bawling quietly and that didn’t make me feel any hotter. I hate to see girls cry.

It didn’t seem like she was headed anywhere in particular as she took corners of the block at hairpin angles and made other cars blare their horns at us. I didn’t know what she was doing. I felt like I was intruding on something so I kept my mouth shut.

She was shaking her head and muttering under her breath and crying. That’s when I knew.

When Darry was upset, he hollered. When Sodapop was upset, he laughed it off or held it in until he broke. Two-Bit got drunk, Dally fought people, Johnny ran. I figured Cherry drove. I could see her, hacked off at her brother or her dad, hopping in her Sting Ray and driving through town, just like she was driving from the dance now.

I felt something on the front of my shirt, and I looked down. My nose had bled onto the fabric - a cluster of red spots. There went all Soda’s hard work, and now my ratty shirt was  _ really  _ ruined. “Shoot,” I hissed, rubbing the remaining trickle of blood from my nose.

Cherry looked over for the first time since we drove away. She slowed the Corvette to a stop. Gravel ground under her tires. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I…” she ran her hands through her hair. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought she needed a smoke.

I quickly shook my head. “No, I’m okay, really. I’m just bleeding.”

There was pain in her eyes as she leaned back in the leather seat. “I’m so sorry, Ponyboy.”

“It isn’t your fault. Don’t sweat it.”

“No, it is. I feel responsible.” She wasn’t looking at me. “This was never a good idea, going to the dance together. I knew something like this was going to happen, and now your night is ruined and your shirt’s a mess…”

My eyes were huge. “No,” I said, “No, Cherry, you’re wrong. I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“I know, I know, but Tom wouldn’t have given you half a thought if I hadn’t been dancing with you. I didn’t use my head and you got hurt. I’m sorry. It’s just because we live on opposite sides of town that people care so much. It’s stupid. This whole thing is stupid. Why does grease  _ matter _ so much to people? Those boys that hit you are no different than you or me.”

Now I was mad. “Don’t you say that about yourself, Cherry Valance,” I argued. “Those guys are nothing like you, Soc or no Soc. If a greaser girl asked one of them to the dance - heck, if I asked any other Socy girl besides you - they’d all just yell “grease” and spit at my feet. You’re nothing like them. I know you had fun tonight before they showed.” I sat back in my own seat and crossed my arms. “You know what my buddy Curly Shepherd is doing for kicks tonight? Hanging around the Slash J, probably getting buzzed or jumped. Some guys in my gang are probably doin’ the same. I coulda joined them, but I wouldn’t have had much fun. That’s why I decided to go to the dance.” I scowled off through the windshield. Golly, that Sting Ray is one tuff car. “So don’t you go around thinkin’ I didn’t have the time of my life with you.”

She cracked a smile. “Really?”

The tenderness in her voice made my ears go pink with indignation. “Well, yeah,” I mumbled. “Them Socs didn’t ruin anything. I ain’t like them and neither are you.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” she whispered. I shifted in my seat and focused on the view out the front of the car. Neither of us said a word.

Cherry had parked on a little raised cleft just at the edge of town. We were far enough away that the city noises had all mixed together in an undertone of engines and dogs barking and trains in the distance. The city lights were like fireflies. They were bunched together closer around the West Side and sparser in my neighborhood, but it looked as pretty as anything I’d ever seen in a movie or painting. There were crickets in the treeline behind us.

“What is this place?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said with a half smile. “An old logging depot, maybe, or a real old quarry cleft, but it always draws me. I always end up here when I drive at night.” The girl suddenly stood up in her seat and leaned her forearms on the top rim of the Corvette’s windshield, gazing out at the city. “When I’m up here… it all looks so simple. West Side, East Side, sure, but it’s all one town. You can’t see the fighting and the hating and the alcohol and blood and lousy names. It’s just a city.”

I stood on my own shotgun seat and copied her stance, our bare elbows almost touching. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I get like that when I start dreaming.

Just one city. She was right. If you didn’t focus so much on where the lights were or how they were clustered, you just saw a city. Like Cherry and me were looking down at it all from some peaceful, neutral place high in the clouds, somewhere that only cared about lights and sunsets and people.

“You know,” I sighed, “When I was in Windrixville with Johnny, we watched the sun rise one morning. It felt like this.” I tipped my head to the side, remembering. “Something real pretty and peaceful that makes you forget about everything that’s goin’ on. And I remember thinking…” I rubbed my neck - “... Soda and Steve and all them just don’t dig this stuff. But you came to mind as someone who does.”

Cherry dropped her chin and stared down through the glass at the dashboard. “You really thought of me?” she asked.

I wanted to tell her then how lousy I’d felt when Dally had said how he thought she liked him when he took us to Dairy Queen, because I’d known he was right. I wanted to tell her how good it felt to learn that we saw the same sunset. I wanted to let her know how much I liked knowing someone who got me like no one else did. Instead I just swallowed and said, “Sure.”

She looked back out at the night. “I think of you, sometimes,” she admitted. “Whenever I catch a sunset. I think of what you said, how you see it good from the East Side. I wonder if maybe you’re watching it too.”

I usually was. How many times had we watched the sunset together without knowing it? Had she always watched sunsets, even before we met?

Before Bob? 

Tom had said she’d changed since he died. Had she watched them back then, too? How long had she seen them?

I went to ask her that, but stopped myself. She was gazing off into the night, and the remnants of tears still stained her cheeks. They’d brought up Bob when they were cussing us out, I remembered. Maybe the fight wasn’t the only reason she was crying.

I swallowed. “I’m… I’m sorry they talked about Bob earlier,” I said quietly.

She just closed her eyes, furrowing her brow the tiniest bit. “It’s okay,” she said eventually. “I’m okay. I… just wish they hadn’t, you know?”

I didn’t say anything.

“They were his friends, too. It was roughest those six or seven months ago, but… everyone’s dealing with it different.”

“How are you dealing with it?”

She shrugged. “Driving,” she decided. “Coming here, where I can calm down and look at everything objectively. I’ve done a  _ lot  _ of that these past few months, thinking about things. Watching sunsets.” She smiled the tiniest bit at that. “I don’t know. Trying to recognize that there’s a whole lot of bad in this town and the only way to move on is to hold onto the good. That’s why I was so excited to go with you to that stupid dance, I think.”

I swallowed, my heart doing a little flip. “I’m… a good part of this town, for you?”

She tipped her head to the side. “It’s like you said,” she said, “You always come to mind as someone who digs the same stuff I do. You’re… really the only one I can think of.”

I looked straight at her face then. How her nose sloped. How her hair blew in pieces in the wind. It was dark, of course, but I knew what her face looked like. Slowly, I moved my elbow closer until her skin touched mine.

She short of shivered and turned her head to me, our elbows. We’d been a lot closer when we danced, but this wasn’t the same. Maybe it was the night or the crickets or the fact that we were standing in her car. I bit my lip. “Cherry,” I asked quietly. She met my eyes, and I whispered, “Would you… would you mind if I kissed you?”

Her eyes went slowly to my mouth, then back to me. Her red lips turned up the tiniest bit and I think I stopped breathing for a moment. And then she said, “... okay.”

That whole time, our faces had drifted closer and closer until I was leaning so close her nose couldn’t have been more than a centimeter away. I took one last breath and tipped my chin up, kissing her on the mouth.

She smelled like hairspray and car leather and tasted like what I guessed was lipstick. I felt her jaw move as she kissed me back. I didn’t have much knowledge on this sort of thing - Soda’d know more - but I figured that Cherry would be considered a good kisser. I hoped I kissed her just as well, so she’d think I was a good kisser, too.

I don’t know how I stopped, but I did. I could hear my heart beating in my ears. We just sort of looked at each other until I murmured, “Maybe you should drive me home. Darry’ll start worryin’.”

Cherry nodded. “Okay.” Neither of us moved to sit down. My neck was starting to hurt from leaning over and my face still stung where that Soc belted me, but for some wild reason I didn’t feel it. I pushed forward and kissed her lips again, harder this time, but faster. I just wanted that feeling one more time before I drew back and sat back in my seat.

“Take me home, please,” I said up at her.

She smiled and sat down, too. Her fingers laced around the steering wheel as she slowly brought the Sting Ray to life.

“Okay, Ponyboy.”

~

She pulled to the curb in front of my house. The light was on in the living room and the Ford was in the dirt driveway. I folded my hands in my lap but I didn’t feel like getting out just then.

“Well,” I said, “If you… if you ever want to talk to someone…” I jabbed a thumb at my house. “... You know where I’ll be.”

Cherry nodded at me. “I will,” she promised. We sat for a few more minutes until she said, “Pony…”

“Yeah?” I said quickly.

“You were right,” she beamed. “I did have fun with you tonight. Better than any party on the West Side.”

I got a warm, happy feeling in my chest and smiled at my hands. “Better than anything on the East Side, too,” I said.

She leaned over and kissed me on the temple. “Goodnight, Pony.”

“G’night,” I blushed, finally opening the car door and getting out. I didn’t slam it in case Soda or Darry were sleeping, and I told you that Sting Ray was one tuff car so I was gentle with it. I walked up the yard to the front door with my hands in my pockets. Before I put my hand on the screen door knob, I turned back and waved. She waved back, revved the engine quietly, and drove off down the street.


	6. Johnny

“Soc.”

Steve was looking out the window of the Curtis’ living room when he said that under his breath. I dug my fingers into the sofa cushion as my heart started beating real fast. Soc.

Soc.

_ Soc _ .

_ Quit worrying, _ I wanted to say to myself, but that didn’t calm my racing heart. I’d been scared of them for too long to suddenly not be scared at the mention of them. 

“Shut up,” Soda breathed, clambering over to get a look.

Steve’s face was still glued to the window. “I’m not kiddin’, man. There’s a Corvette right outside.”

Two-Bit swore and joined the group by the window. I stayed on the sofa. I was scared real bad.

Darry came into the room. “What’s the deal?” he asked.

“Corvette just pulled up,” Steve said, squinting at it. “Sting Ray.”

“That’s Cherry Valance!” Two-Bit exclaimed.

“That’s  _ Ponyboy _ ,” Soda grinned.

Steve’s eyes went big as he whirled to stare at his friend. “ _ What? _ ”

“Pony?” Darry’s eyebrows came together.

“Yeah, there he is!” Sodapop said. I figured it was safe so I went over and peeked out the window, too. It was too dark to see much but in the streetlight and the headlights of the tuff little car I could see the redheaded Soc behind the wheel and Pony riding shotgun. The car was in neutral and they seemed to be talking. Then Cherry leaned over and kissed him.

My mouth dropped open.

Steve swore loudly, a look of outrage on his face.

“Boy, oh boy!” Soda whooped. “What a kid!”

“What happened to him?” Darry asked.

“I’ll tell you what,” Steve said, “Wise ass kid picked up a Soc.”

“He did not.”

“He’s right out there, man, she just gave him a big ol’ kiss.”

“ _ Shhh! _ ” Soda shushed, shoving us all away from the window. “Here he comes. Act cool.”

“Who’s acting?” Two-Bit teased, earning him a smack over the head. I slipped off the sill and sat down on the floor next to the arm rest. I felt a little bad for Pony. He was about to get it.

The screen door opened and the youngest Curtis stepped in with a happy little grin on his face that dropped real quick when he took in the six greasers in the room. He stood frozen stiff, staring at us.

“You little  _ slick _ ,” Steve said.

“Cherry Valance, huh?” Two-Bit puffed on his smoke with a mischievous grin.

Pony’s ears went red. “Lay off,” he squeaked.

“Were you a good boy?” he went on, waggling his rusty eyebrows.

“I acted more decent than you ever would, Two-Bit Mathews,” he retorted. Two-Bit shrugged in defeat and grinned to us, saying “Kid’s got me there.”

Darry suddenly came over to his brother and inspected his face. “That’s a good-lookin’ bruise you got there,” he said. “How’d that happen?”

He squirmed and mumbled, “Soc got mad at the dance. I’m okay.” I got a good look at his face and swallowed, remembering the commotion during the slow dance and the Socs cussing someone out…

“Oh, Pony, look at your nice shirt! You’ve got blood all over it?” Sodapop exclaimed, leaping up.

“You were bleeding?”

“Just my nose,” Pony said.

Darry had a worried expression on his face and said slowly, “You oughta clean that up and wash out that shirt with cold water. Sodapop, you help him.”

“Alright.” The blond greaser took his brother by the shoulder and led him off. I was sort of worried about him myself so I got up and tagged along behind them.

“Hi, Johnny,” Pony said, stepping into the bathroom and leaning against the sink to study his face in the mirror. Soda went into their room to get him a new shirt.

“Hi,” I said.

He frowned and turned his head from one side to the other. “Man,” he lamented, “This bruise doesn’t make me look half as tough as I hoped. Just looks like I got beat.”

“Howd’ja get it?” I asked. “Was it… was it that Soc during the slow dance?”

He looked at me in quiet surprise. “Yeah,” he said. “Some guy named Tom.”

“Was he hacked off ‘cause you were with Cherry?”

“No,” he shook his head. “He was hacked off at Cherry for being with a greaser. I got mad and called him a bum and he hit me then.”

I shuddered. I could never imagine starting something like that with a Soc ever again. I never wanted to be backed into that corner…

Sodapop came in and threw Pony a T-shirt, who shucked his bloodstained one off and put it on. Soda’s eyes brightened when he noticed me. “Hey, Johnnycake,” he beamed. “How was your night with Rita?”

“Oh, yeah, did you guys have fun?” Pony asked.

I shrugged and looked away. “Yeah,” I kind of smiled. “We danced a little even though I didn’t really know what I was doing. Rita was better. She’s a real nice dancer.”

“Did you two  _ slow dance? _ ” Soda drawled.

“Not for long.” I scuffed my shoe on the floor. “After that Soc picked a fight I didn’t want to stay, so we left real quick. I took Rita home and came hear. By the way, I think I’m gonna sleep on the couch here tonight.” I didn’t want to deal with my dad after what he’d said in front of Rita. It still hurt.

“Fine by me, kiddo. Front door’s always open.” The older boy stretched. “I’m gonna head back to the boys. Pony, if that bruise hurts, take an aspirin.” He lowered his voice and whispered to him knowingly, “I wouldn’t go back in there. They’re probably itching to hear all the juicy details about your hot date.”

Ponyboy’s ears went red again and he sputtered, “It wasn’t a hot date, and there ain’t any details!”

“Two-Bit’s never gonna believe that, though. He knows what goes on in tuff ol’ cars like that Sting Ray.” He winked. “I remember the first time I kissed Sandy, boy howdy, did I  _ get it _ from ol’ Two-Bit…”

Pony and I watched his brother’s face fall at the mention of his girl. He replaced it with a smile real fast, but it didn’t seem as genuine as it had just been. “Anyway…” he shrugged and jabbed his thumb at the door. “I’ll… yeah.” And he left.

We stared at each other in silence.

“So, uh…” I lowered my voice. “Where’d you and Cherry go after that Soc… you know. Where’ve you been all this time, huh?”

My friend grinned out of the corner of his mouth. “Just drivin’. She drove like crazy, you wouldn’t believe.”

I raised my eyebrows, asking for more. Ponyboy looked at his feet and went pink again. “That it?” I asked. He shook his head and smiled a little bigger. I hit him gently. “Well?”

“We kissed.”

“Oh, boy.”

“Twice.”

I whistled long and low.

“Now, don’t you go gabbin’, Johnny Cade, I expect you to keep this quiet,” Pony said indignantly.

“I will, I will. Are you gonna tell your brothers?”

“Soda maybe,” he shrugged, toeing the cracked tile. “Darry, I don’t know. I’ll see.”

I nodded.

“But, gosh, I did have fun.” Pony glanced at himself in the mirror. “I don’t even really care that I got jumped. I had fun.”

I shuddered. I couldn’t imagine getting jumped and still thinking the rest of my night was okay. Hell, it wasn’t even me who got beat up, it was Pony, but I still didn’t feel too hot. I was all twitchy. “You’re crazy, outta your mind,” I said.

“You’re not gonna tell Darry or Steve or nothin’, right?”

“Course not.”

My friend grinned. He was such a happy kid. “I’m gonna get to bed, I gotta be up in the morning before Darry leaves. See you around.”

“Your bruise don’t hurt you none?” I asked after him.

He felt his face and shrugged. “Not really. Thanks. Good night.”

“Night,” I said. I had to smile. Pony was the kind of kid that did that to you. He could get spat on and kicked in the dirt like the rest of us greasers, but it wouldn’t make him mean like Dally and it sure didn’t scare him like it did to me. He sure was different.

_ But shoot _ , I thought when I went back to the living room,  _ if having a good time with that Soc he likes so much makes him forget about the hate for a little bit, then good for him _ .


	7. Ponyboy

“You know that kid, Curly Shepherd?” one of my school friends asked us that following Monday. “I heard he got jailed.”

“Jailed?” the other one asked, wide-eyed.

“Again?” I groaned.

“Yeah, busted into a store or something. Don’t know how long he’s in for, though.”

The other guys around me looked shocked. I guess I would too if I didn’t grow up in the East Side and didn’t know Curly as well as I do. Curly had probably been looking to get hauled in. I didn’t blame my school friends for being stunned, they weren’t Socs but they didn’t come from my neighborhood. They just weren’t used to it like I was.

The bell rang and we all poured out of science. I said goodbye to my friends and headed for the stairwell to English.

_ Cherry _ , I remembered suddenly.

I smiled to myself. I hadn’t escaped Two-Bit’s hounding me completely. He came over on Saturday and beat answers out of me. He wanted to know if she and I were going steady now, but I said no because that as the truth. I hollered on and on but I still don’t think he believed me. Soda had been right. Soda digs love stuff ‘cause he thinks it’s cute. Two-Bit just uses it as an excuse to tease everyone.

I’d thought about Cherry all weekend. I drew a few more pictures of her - with her hair down walking through school, in her dress from the dance - and I’d started on one of the two of us in the car on the hill over the city but I told you I can’t draw cars for my life and plus the drawing just didn’t do it justice. I mean, how am I supposed to draw how her hair smelled or what the breeze felt like or how the crickets sounded in the treeline?

I came down the stairs. Cherry was there with Marcia and two other girls. Socs. I was ready to duck my head and let her go by because I’d seen how mad Tom had gotten when he’d seen her with a greaser until her green eyes met mine and she smiled broadly. “Hi, Ponyboy.”

I felt my face light up. “Hi, Cherry,” I said.

And then she passed me like usual. I think I floated to English and I was sure I had a goofy smile plastered on my face the whole way there.

The only thing I could think about was the first night I met her. She’d pulled me aside and told me that she wouldn’t say hi to me in the halls and asked me to please not take it personal. And she had gone out of her way just now to say hi to me in the halls. I wondered why.

Maybe she said hi because now, after the dance and our talk and our kiss, she was ready to say hi to a greaser in front of other Socs.

I couldn’t ask for anything more.


	8. Cherry

“Hi, Ponyboy.”

His entire face brightened and he stood up a little straighter. He grinned, “Hi, Cherry.”

And then he was gone.

Marcia, Susan, and Judy were givnig me identical, wide-eyed stares when I looked back over to them. “You’ll catch flies with your mouths hanging open like that,” I said placidly.

Judy craned over her shoulder to see if she could catch a glimpse of the boy again, then rounded back on me. “Was he a grease?” she asked, curling her lip.

“He sure looked like one,” Susan said. “You saw his jeans, and his hair had that horrible stuff in it…”

“Does he know you?” asked Judy. Her brown curls bounced around her face.

Marcia looked suspiciously at me. “He’s not… is that the boy from the Nightly Double?”

“One of them, yes,” I said.

“What Nightly Double?”

“When was this?”

Susan and Judy’s scandalized fussing intensified.

“Would both of you please cool it before you hurt yourselves?” I interceded. “His name’s Ponyboy, Marcia and I ran into him and some of his friends when we went to the drive-in with Randy and…” his name lodged in my throat. _Bob_. “We’re… friends.”

“So he _is_ a grease?” the brown-haired girl exclaimed.

“Cherry, I don’t know if you should be doin’ this.” Marcia worried with her neck scarf. “You haven’t heard what some of the other kids have been saying, ever since that big rumble when you kept going over to the East Side…”

“Yes, I have,” I said, Tom’s sneering face flashing through my mind. His fist connecting with Pony’s nose. “I have heard what they say about me and I don’t care. I don’t care anymore. It doesn’t matter, anyway. He’s a nice boy, even if he is a grease.”

The trio beside me was quiet as we walked through the halls. I pursed my lips and kept my gaze straight before me. I’d never said anything like that to my Soc friends before, even though I’d been thinking it more and more often recently. I didn’t know how they would handle it.

Susan shrugged. “Well…” she said, “he does have pretty eyes.”

“And a fair build,” Judy added.

“He’s kind of cute, now that you mention it,” Marcia said.

I grinned to myself. “Yeah, I guess he’s pretty cute.”

“Is he a sophomore, too?”

“He can’t be, he doesn’t look old enough to be our age.”

“He’s a freshman,” I said. “He got put up a grade in grade school.”

“Good looking _and_ smart. I’ve never heard of a greaser getting put up a grade before,” Judy declared.

“What did you say his name was, again?” asked Susan.

“Ponyboy Curtis.”

“You know that absolute doll who works at the DX, Sodapop?” Marcia said. “That’s his older brother.”

“No!”

“He is.” My friend grinned coyly, proud that she could provide a bit of information. I almost snorted.

Susan batted her eyelashes. “Good looks certainly do run in that family.”

“You know,” Judy said as we entered the classroom and sat at our desks, “The more I think about it, I think I _have_ seen that boy around school. I’ve seen him with that junior, Two-Bit, and the new girl in my history class. And Dallas Winston.”

“ _Dallas Winston?_ ” Now Susan shuddered. “Oh, no, no. That guy is bad news. I heard he’s been jailed for every crime under the sun.”

“What’s a cute, smart boy like your Ponyboy doing around that trash, Cherry?” the brown-haired girl asked.

I gave her a look. “Five minutes ago, you thought Pony was the trash.”

She scoffed indignantly and aligned her books on her desk. “Well,” she stammered, “All I’m saying is that Dallas Winston is a whole other breed, that’s all.”

The bell rang to signal the start of class, and I got out my notebook to take notes. The whole period, I found my mind drifting to Pony, wondering what he was doing right now, what class he was in. Was he taking notes, too? Were any of his friends in his class? Was he thinking about me as much as I was of him?

I realized, for the first time, I sort of hoped he was.


End file.
